


Saddle Tramp

by sootandshadow



Series: You Can Leave Your Hat On [3]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Anal Sex, Incest, M/M, PWP, Switching, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Wild West AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 11:56:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sootandshadow/pseuds/sootandshadow
Summary: Almost everything got better with time: good leather, fine cheeses, good whisky, and, incidentally, Nero’s ability to fuck him six ways to Sunday while barely breaking a sweat.





	Saddle Tramp

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Heading2DanVer (Cerberus_Brulee)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberus_Brulee/gifts).

> Go look at the [incredible art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18713722) that spawned this AU, and more specifically, this fic. It still is 2hot for me to handle. :fire:
> 
> Blessings upon the degenerates who feed me and keep me at my unusual gremlin size. <333

Almost everything got better with time: good leather, fine cheeses, good whisky, and, incidentally, Nero’s ability to fuck him six ways to Sunday while barely breaking a sweat. 

Dante tucks his face into the crook of his elbow and moans, partly for show, as Nero works another finger into him, savouring the feeling of being spread so intimately. The kid has _fantastic_ hands, calloused and deft from long days of hard labour, fingers thick enough that he’s accutely aware of each one of them. Nero had been shy about putting them to good use at first, clumsy and over-eager and too careful in equal parts, and even now that he knows what he wants, he still likes to play it safe. Case and point: he’s got four fingers knuckles deep inside Dante, excess slick practically dripping down Dante’s perineum with every slow thrust, Dante’s cock hanging flushed and full between his thighs, and Nero’s still easing him open like this is Dante’s first rodeo. 

And yeah, okay, Dante appreciates that kind of thing, some days, but it’s definitely not the evening he’d envisioned, what with the way he’s on his hands and knees in their little safehouse and wearing nothing more than a pair of chaps. (What? Dante knew how to sell his ass...ets.) Tonight, he wants a little less of the soft-hearted cowboy who sneaks his horse extra oats when he thinks nobody’s looking and more of the foul-mouthed kid who used to storm bandit camps armed with nothing but a shovel and a bad attitude. 

So Dante slides his knees a little wider and cants his hips, moans louder when Nero’s rhythm falters at the wanton display and he inadvertently fucks his fingers deeper. It feels good, but it’s not _enough_, not when Dante feels like he’s been ready for more than fingers for _hours_. Lust burns beneath his skin, a liquid, sizzling heat that pulses in time to the steady beat of his heart. The devil inside is hungry and it isn’t about to be satisfied by such a paltry offering. 

He pillows his cheek on his forearm and turns his head so he can get a look at Nero, trying not to preen a little at the look on Nero’s face. Dante doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the way the kid goes glassy-eyed and pink all the way down his throat when he’s hot for something. “Taking your sweet time back there, cowboy,” he calls over his shoulder, grinning roguishly when Nero startles and looks down at him. “Enjoying the view? Or getting a bit of stage fright?” 

Predictably, the jab makes Nero scowl, and he crooks his fingers in a way that makes Dante’s insides clench tighter around them. It’s almost enough to make Dante moan again, even if it would mostly be for show. 

“Don’t rush me.” 

Despite his words, Nero’s already pulling his fingers free, the empty feeling making Dante almost regret taunting him. (Almost being the key word. He knows this is the precursor to something even better, if Nero is going to put his money where his mouth is.) 

From this angle, he can’t see much of Nero, can only content himself with listening to the rustling of fabric and the bitten off curse that means the kid has a hand around his own dick, no doubt coating it with the same slippery oil that’s dripping off his fingers. Impatience burns hot and urgent underneath Dante’s skin, growing with every heartbeat and throb of his cock, until finally, _finally_ he feels something thicker than Nero’s fingers press up against the stretched out furl of his entrance. He knows he should wait, should let Nero have a little more agency in this whole thing, but Dante thinks he’s been more than generous. 

With a low, almost guttural growl he leans back and forces Nero’s cock inside him in a single, blissfully aching thrust that has Nero scrambling for purchase on his hips. The kid’s cursing again, a breathless stream of profanities that only makes everything sweeter as Dante’s body yields to the sudden intrusion, a kind of masochistic pleasure hot like flames licking at the base of his spine. There’s something about this that never gets old, and Dante wants to savour every minute of the initial stretch, basking in the feeling of fullness deep inside of him, a solid weight that burns him to the core. He lets his head hang low, damp hair obscuring his vision, just taking a moment to simply _breathe_. 

Pressed tight against his ass, Nero seems to be doing the same, just panting softly now that he’s run out of awful, blasphemous things to say. Dante lets him have his moment, supposes he should be a little proud of the fact that the kid didn’t come on the spot. He considers congratulating him, until he hears Nero swallow, audible and tight, and then he feels calloused palms absently stroking down his ribs. It’s one of Nero’s little habits when they’re like this, seemingly unable to resist petting Dante’s flanks and pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses between his shoulder blades like he’s both trying to settle Dante and himself in the process. Dante indulges him in this — because it’s attention and, let’s be honest, he lives for this kind of thing — and arches into the touch, letting Nero have his fill. 

And then he feels Nero’s fingers hook into the belt of his chaps, the grip not unlike the way he holds the reins of his mount. It makes him still, curiousity piqued, but before he can make one of his trademark snide remarks, Nero flicks the leather in his hand and clicks his tongue at him. 

“Go on. Get.” 

When Dante doesn't immediately oblige him, a little too stunned by this unexpected foray into —what is this, _roleplay?_ — Nero has the audacity to _spank_ him, just once, like the crack of a whip, his broad palm leaving a stinging imprint on the bare cheek of Dante’s ass. 

"Come on, I know you're broke. Don't be all ornery with me 'cause you had a bit of time off."

For a long, breathless moment, Dante is silent, the lingering bite of Nero’s handprint throbbing to the beat of his heart as it thunders in his ears. He should feel indignant, should feel something even vaguely like irritation that Nero would not only _spank him_, but also expect him to do all the work here, like he really is some common saddle horse. Instead, he feels like he’s had molten lava injected straight into his veins, every pulse of his blood sending new heat surging through him, only for it all to pool between his legs. Dante has to swallow twice to get a grip on himself, burning all the way to the tips of his ears and hot under the collar in a way that he hasn’t been in years. He wants this; the only question is, is Nero really going to see this through?

Dante lifts his head and tilts it just so, levelling Nero a Look over his shoulder as his devil roils dangerously beneath his skin. In his mouth, his teeth ache as if offended by their human bluntness, his skin already prickling with demonic power, and he knows something of this must show on his face. Dante blinks once, oh-so-slowly, and the kid honest to God _shudders_ when they make eye contact, his fingers tightening on the straps of his chaps.

But he doesn’t look away. 

The kid even goes so far as lifting his chin a little bit like he dares Dante to defy him, like he won’t hesitate to give Dante another giddyup smack if he wants to make this difficult for himself. It delights Dante’s devil, that this mere boy would be so brazen as to try and dominate _him_, and Dante knows the smile he fixes Nero has far too much teeth to be even remotely reassuring. Even so, he can see the way Nero’s eyes darken at his expression, can feel his hips twitch a little against Dante’s backside, and Dante is reminded that he isn’t the only one with a weird definition of “self-preservation.” Fuck, sometimes he really loves this kid. 

Dante’s voice sounds rough and gravelly even to his own ears, but he prides himself in how steady he manages to keep it. "You better hold on back there cowboy."

He doesn’t even really let Nero get a better grip, trusts him to be ready for Dante or else get with the program quick. (Nero had started it, after all, so there was no reason to cut him any slack.) Dante plants his hands more firmly against the ground and fucks himself back on Nero’s cock _hard_, unable to totally stifle his moan when the motion grinds it up against all the right places. From there, it’s all in the thighs, and Dante doesn’t hesitate to set a punishing pace, letting the sounds of flesh meeting flesh only spur him on, arching into every thrust. It’s not quite what he had in mind, but fuck it, it’s still _incredible_, and Dante isn’t going to complain. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” Nero praises, and Dante can feel him bracing himself more evenly on his knees, relaxing him grip a little on the chaps so Dante can have more room to work. Dante feels himself grinning, revelling in Nero’s words like he really is a horse grateful at having been given his head. True to his word, Nero doesn’t move, just lets Dante ride his dick, and even though he can’t see him, Dante can hear the faint hitching of Nero’s breath, the tremble in his voice, the keening noises he’s trying hard to disguise as exhales. It only serves to make every thrust sweeter, to fan the flames of the pleasure boiling in his gut until his cock leaks with it. 

It’s a pity he’s not going to be able to keep it up. 

The pace is a trying one, as is the position, and before Dante is even remotely close to being satisfied he can already feel unused muscles starting to burn, his knees and elbows adding to his body’s complaints by protesting the rough treatment. To make matters worse, his own sweat is making him slide a little on the ground, which in turn only makes him tighten his muscles even more to compensate, reminding him of every ache. The whole thing is incredibly distracting, even though this has the unintentional side-effect of making Nero groan, and Dante’s not sure he can come like this. 

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make _Nero_ come, if only to prove a point. He blinks through the sweat dripping into his eyes, bites back a growl at his body’s demands, determination surging up anew, only to realize that Nero’s released his grip on one side of the chaps. 

“Easy,” Nero croons over his back, and Dante feels one of the kid’s hands in between his shoulder blades, pressing gently. “You did good. Why don’t you let me take the reins for a bit?” 

Dante resists the touch at first, until he feels Nero twist the belt of his chaps in one hand and use the clothing as a handhold to jerk Dante back _hard_ onto his cock. It punches a low, startled groan out of him, pleasure flaring hot up his spine, and when Nero pushes against his back again he yields. The floor is cool against his overheated chest when he drops down onto it, the contrast in temperatures making him shudder, but he forgets about everything other than the dick heavy and hot inside of him when the kid shifts his weight behind him. Nero’s other hand curls back in his belt, and now he has _two_ handholds, his grip steady and sure, and Dante braces himself for what he knows is coming next. 

The next jerk of his hips is rough, as is the next, and Dante presses his cheek against the floor and moans with every thrust, shameless in his enjoyment now that Nero is finally giving him what he wants. It’s _good_; it’s better than good, and he isn’t afraid to tell Nero so as he digs his fingers uselessly into the ground, helpless in the face of Nero’s onslaught and enjoying every moment of it. His devil thrashes beneath his skin, demanding more, always more, even as every slap of flesh against flesh nearly rattles his teeth. Dante doesn’t know how long Nero is going to last, but he’s determined to enjoy every last minute. 

(And if every so often he clenches tight around Nero’s cock just to make the kid groan? That’s just icing on the proverbial cake.) 

Dante finally feels Nero’s rhythm falter just as his thrusts turn almost too rough, feels him still as he presses in deep, _deeper_, the twitch of his fingers against Dante’s hips and the breathy, almost keening noise signalling his release. While Dante normally enjoys such things, practically revels in the feeling of his partners coming undone because of him, he’s distracted by the aching weight between his legs, neglected cock fervently protesting its abandonment in the wake of Nero’s satisfaction. He arches back into Nero, fully expecting the kid — generous as he always is — to keep fucking Dante even a little bit while he reaches around and jerks Dante off. What he gets instead is the feeling of Nero’s softening cock slipping free of his body as Nero collapses backwards onto the ground with a soft huff. The sting of disappointment is sharp enough that Dante actually _whines_, only for the sound to turn into a yelp when Nero pinches his ass. 

Somehow, that betrayal is worse than the disappointment, and Dante pushes himself up off the floor so he can turn and face Nero. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into the kid, doesn’t know if this new bossy persona of his doesn’t believe in returning the favour, but whatever it is, he and Dante are going to have _words_ about this. Nero hasn’t gone far, lounging behind him looking incredibly satisfied, and Dante’s brow shapes itself into a scowl even as his dick twitches between his legs. For all that he’s feeling incredibly slighted, Dante still can’t help but admire the picture Nero makes, flushed from exertion, gaze half-lidded in pleasure, hand on his his flaccid cock and— wait what?

Dante’s gaze flicks briefly to Nero’s face, watching the kid’s lips curling up into a smirk, before he’s drawn back to Nero’s hand, suddenly unable to look away. Nero’s fingers slide lower until he’s cupping his balls as well, lifting them out of the way as he leans back just enough to put himself on display. As if the visual wasn’t enough, Dante watches as Nero lets a finger trail even lower, caressing as much as it is drawing Dante’s attention to exactly where Nero wants it. The skin around the puckered flesh of his entrance is unnaturally slick, and his hole yields almost too easily to the casual press of Nero’s wandering finger. 

When Dante just gapes at him, brain desperately trying to process what he’s seeing, Nero snorts softly, and spreads his knees a little wider. "You need a written invitation, old man? Get over here."

Dante doesn’t need to be told twice. 

He captures that cheeky mouth with his own, kissing Nero fiercely as drags blunt fingernails down his sides, too overeager to give the kid’s body the loving attention it deserves. Dante will make it up to him later. Now though? Now he has to know, the suspense gnawing at him almost as ravenously at his own arousal, and without hesitation his hands skirt lower until his fingers are circling Nero’s entrance. It’s slick there, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Nero’s just fucked him with undoubtedly more oil than the act deserved, and Dante would have been a little offended if the act hadn’t left him more than a little messy. It’s not until he pushes a careful finger inside that he realises it’s slick here too, warm and unresisting, and the sensation makes Dante’s brain skip like a scratched record. 

Nero’s prepped himself. Nero’s _prepped himself_ and _goddamn_, Dante needs a minute to process this, arousal lighting him up like a scorching wildfire, and he doesn’t even know what to do with himself. He presses his forehead to Nero’s chest just to breathe, even as he adds another finger into Nero, caressing his insides like he can’t get enough, like he can’t believe what he’s feeling. 

“Fuck, kid,” Dante mumbles, not even sure how to put his thoughts in order enough to get them out as proper words, and Nero huffs a breathless laugh. When Dante gathers enough of himself to chance a look at Nero through his bangs, he finds the kid watching him with his bottom lip caught between his teeth, eyes alight with arousal and mischief in equal parts. He is gorgeous like this, brazen and daring even laid out like a buffet for a half-devil, and Dante can’t bring himself to look away. He almost wants to keep Nero like this forever, to draw this out until there can be no question in Nero’s mind what he does to Dante, but the kid has other plans. 

“You going senile on me? Here, I’ll help jog your memory.” 

His fingers join Dante’s at the place where they’re buried inside him, teasing the stretched rim, his thighs quivering against Dante’s flanks at their combined touch, and that’s all it takes to push Dante over the edge. 

It’s all-too-easy to take his hand away and toss Nero’s legs over his shoulder, to drive into him perhaps a touch more roughly than he intended, fucking him in short jerks of his hips that bring their bodies together in an utterly filthy harmony. Nero’s insides are searing hot and almost unbearably tight around his neglected cock, and Dante cannot restrain himself, riding high on the bonfire of his own arousal as he stokes the flames with every thrust. Even chasing his own pleasure, he still keeps his gaze glued to Nero’s face, basking in the way Nero’s mouth loses its cocky smirk and his eyes squeeze shut, caught up in Dante’s desires and all but overwhelmed by them. 

When he gets his voice back — and isn’t that a treat, Nero utterly voiceless with pleasure as Dante fucks him — he’s quick to demand _more_, commands blurring into profanities as he throws his arms around the back of Dante’s neck. The move only serves to bring them closer, giving Dante a little more leverage so he can fuck Nero harder, bringing him close enough to kiss that insolent mouth — which he does, only because he can. He chases after those lips, bites them, drinks up Nero’s cries like they’re his due, lets Nero up for air only when Dante’s cock swells and he can’t focus on anything else but the electric spark of his release. He tips his head back and moans with it, digging his fingers into the heft of Nero’s thighs as he lets his thrusts slow to a grind, adding more wetness to the mess between them. Beneath him, Nero makes a low noise, and Dante can’t help the way his hips jerk when the kid tightens around him, like he’s determined to take everything and then some. The very idea makes Dante’s cock twitch in muted interest. 

Nero doesn’t seem interested in letting him enjoy his orgasm for very long, though. Even as Dante’s breathing starts to slow, he can feel Nero start to squirm beneath him, now-hard cock rutting against his abdomen. As tempting as it is to let him suffer a little bit — he’d almost had Dante convinced he was going to leave him high and dry! — the kid _had_ taken the time to prep himself before their little getaway. Just the thought of Nero riding out to the safehouse, trying to ignore the residual slick between his thighs and the lingering sensation of his own fingers, has the blood rushing to Dante’s cock anew. 

That in and of itself deserves a special kind of reward. 

Dante sits up and pulls Nero with him, easily settling him on Dante’s lap. The new position makes Nero reach out to grasp at his shoulders, moan caught in his throat as he inadvertently clenches up around Dante. Pleasure curls warm and enticing in Dante’s belly as he watches Nero try and settle himself, unable to resist giving the kid a little bit of a hard time. 

"You want another go?” His fingers tease at Nero’s nipples just to feel him tense up again, delighting in the way it makes Nero squirm, his cock still bobbing flushed and hard between them. “Better ride me properly this time, cowboy."

That’s all it takes to make Nero bare his teeth in snarling smile, and as he presses a willing Dante onto his back, Dante knows he’ll take the words to heart. _If you climb in the saddle, be ready for the ride,_ after all.


End file.
